


you should listen to your heart (it's gonna tell you what you need)

by fallenhurricane



Series: Malec Playlist [3]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Mundane Alec Lightwood, Mundane Magnus Bane, Shy Alec Lightwood, emotionally repressed Alec Lightwood, everybody's a mundane here!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:06:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24363274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenhurricane/pseuds/fallenhurricane
Summary: “I just… Magnus, I wish I knew how to -- I’ve never…” and he trails off.The idea is clear in his head; he doesn’t know how to do this, how to sit in peace with someone, how to interact with somebody who wants him the same way he wants them, how to hold hands and date and look at someone like they’re the only one that matters. How to be looked at the same way. But he doesn’t even know if that’s where things with Magnus are headed and the uncertainty adds another level of terror. In any case, the words won’t come. Alec makes another pained noise, frustrated, and bends over, cradling his head in his hands. “Shit.”
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Luke Garroway/Maryse Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Simon Lewis/Isabelle Lightwood
Series: Malec Playlist [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757935
Comments: 5
Kudos: 117





	you should listen to your heart (it's gonna tell you what you need)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mess. I just wanted to write emotionally repressed Alec, but it turns out I can't really write. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. I'd love any feedback!

We won't break if we let go  
You and I already know  
We were born to be set free eventually  
Here we are now  
You can say anything  
-Tristan Prettyman, "Say Anything"

Alec Lightwood is not known for being fearful.

He loves roller coasters, and thinks that the faster and wilder they are, the better. He has more than a few tattoos, all relatively small but dark and densely packed with ink, one curving up the slope of his neck. He eats his sister’s cooking and survives, twirling the overcooked pasta around his fork and smiling through the acidic burn of the tomato sauce that is somehow both nearly raw and totally burnt. He’s gone skydiving; when Jace turned eighteen, Alec joined him in hurling themselves (or, rather, rolling, with the help of their tandem skydiving instructors) out of a plane at 14,000 feet. He has braved haunted houses, scary movies, and spider-infested attics with scarcely more than a slight grimace.

Alec Lightwood simply does not get scared. So why is it that sometimes Magnus Bane, the person he thinks he might like more than anybody else he knows, terrifies him?

* * *

The first time Alec really notices this feeling is also the first time he meets Magnus.  
  
He has, at Izzy’s wishes, tagged along with her, Simon, Clary, and Jace to a new club a few nights before Halloween. Nearly everyone in the building is in costume, and Alec feels slightly out of place in his everyday clothes, but not out of place enough to really care. The cool-toned LED lights strung around the ceiling pulsate with the music, flashing blue and purple as what seemed like the whole building swells with swaying and grinding and grooving bodies. Alec shoulders his way to the bar as his siblings immediately take to the dance floor with their partners.  
  
Magnus is bartending that night. He’s wearing all black, much like Alec, but more put together: fitted slacks, a button up shirt with a ruffled collar, and a shiny waistcoat. His hair is perfectly coiffed and speckled with streaks of white, and he has a long, white mustache stuck to his upper lip. Alec somehow can’t take his eyes off of him and struggles to make eye contact at the same time.  
  
When Magnus slides a beer in front of him -- “An IPA from a local brewery,” he says, just moments after he grinned, “Let me surprise you,” and floated away to pour it -- Alec slides his gaze up to meet Magnus’s and when he finds the other man smiling softly at him he ducks his head and grabs the beer, muttering a thank you and quickly turning away. The rest of the night drags on slowly. Alec sips at his beer; it’s better than any other beer he’s had, notes of pine and cedar twisting with orange and lemon and some spices that Alec can’t place. He watches the club-goers dance, picking Izzy and Simon out where they stood in a dark corner and quickly shifting his eyes and finding Jace and Clary moving together on the dance floor, eyes alight. The DJ is bopping behind his booth in the corner and Alec finds himself beginning to sweat under his leather jacket. He shifts his shoulders and sips at his beer some more, ignoring the eyes he feels on the back of his head.  
  
He’s almost finished his drink when Izzy and Simon appear in front of him. “Hey, enjoying yourself?” Izzy asks. Simon grins over her shoulder. He has on a long black wig tied back into a ponytail, a black suit, and a bolo tie, supposedly to match Izzy’s costume of a long white button down, black cropped and flared pants, and a black bob wig. They had said something about a classic movie from the nineties but Alec hadn’t really been listening. He still thinks they looked kind of goofy.  
  
He shrugs.  
  
Izzy rolls her eyes. “What’re you drinking?”  
  
Alec shrugs again, sipping the last of his beer. The dregs are far more bitter than the rest of the glass had been; he grimaces and places the empty glass on the bar.  
  
His sister rolls her eyes again and shoves past him to the bar, tugging Simon closer. Alec turns sideways to give them room as Magnus sashays over. “What can I get for you?” he asks, sending them a smile. Alec pinches his thigh lightly under the cover of the bar. He stares at the wooden surface of the bar, the condensation dripping slowly off of his now-empty glass, and listens as Izzy orders some kind of cider and Simon orders a metropolitan. He doesn’t look up until Izzy elbows him. “Alec?”  
  
“I’m good,” he says quietly. Magnus takes his empty glass with nimble fingers and drifts off to make Simon and Izzy’s drinks.  
  
After Simon and Izzy receive their drinks and move back to the dance floor, glasses held above their heads, Alec swivels to leave. He figures there had to be somewhere else to sit but the bar in a club this big -- plus, he’s thinking he might head home soon, anyway. Izzy always makes fun of him for spending his Saturday nights on the sofa with a book or the TV, but it’s relaxing when she and Jace are out and the apartment is empty. At this rate, it doesn’t look like Izzy or Jace are planning on heading home anytime soon, and Alec is torn between wanting to stay and make sure they make it home in one piece and wanting to go back and lay on the couch and maybe fall asleep to some random documentary. He’s just decided to wait another fifteen minutes when someone behind him clears their throat.  
  
He turns to see Magnus standing across the bar, hands folded on its surface. “Alec, was it?” Alec nods dumbly. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it in silence. Magnus takes it in stride. “I’m Magnus.” He holds out his hand, rings glinting in the dim light. Alec shakes it, the rings a cold contrast to Magnus’s warm hand. He tries to come up with something to say but everything sounds so incredibly stupid in his head. His brows furrow as Magnus let go of his hand, and his gaze finds the top of the bar once again. Magnus smiles at him nonetheless.  
  
And Alec feels his heart drop into his stomach.

* * *

Alec ends up staying at Pandemonium for far longer than the fifteen extra minutes he planned for. Magnus is flitting around behind the bar pouring and mixing drinks and Alec’s eyes are drawn to his biceps and his thighs and he hates not being able to look away. And he hates not being able to make eye contact when Magnus returns to stand opposite him, leaning his chin on his palm, and asking Alec questions about himself. He stumbles through the answers: he is a graduate student studying event management; he doesn’t have any pets, but had a cat as a kid; he’s never been to another country except for Canada; he has an internship at a marketing firm in the city. Magnus smiles at him the whole time they speak, his fingers waving through the air to exaggerate a point or illustrate the importance of something he says. Alec keeps glancing unwillingly at the black polish on his nails and the clearly fake mustache on his face.  
  
Alec is far too sober for this.  
  
Something about Magnus’s smile, how small it is, aimed right at him, makes Alec’s shoulders tense. Something about how easily Magnus’s eyes dance over Alec’s face makes his toes tingle. Something about how easily Magnus asks him about himself, like he isn’t embarrassed to show interest, makes Alec… afraid.  
  
And Alec never feels afraid.

* * *

That night is how Alec finds himself attending classes the next week with Magnus’s number in his phone. With texts from Magnus sitting unanswered. With thoughts of Magnus going unexplored.  
  
Alec is sitting in his Event Marketing Strategies class when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He bites his lip. It’s probably Izzy, or Jace, or even Max or their mom, but a part of him can’t help but think that it might be Magnus. And that makes him nervous. Every text message they’ve traded has been small and innocuous enough. They’ve talked about music and television, books and things to do around the city. Magnus shares facts about himself as easily as he asks Alec questions. Alec has learned that Magnus was born in Indonesia but his parents moved to New York when he was two. He knows that Magnus has a degree in English literature and is pursuing a masters of education. He knows that an old family friend, Ragnor, owns Pandemonium and Magnus works there part-time. He knows that Magnus has a cat named Chairman Meow who acts like he doesn’t love anybody but spends every night curled up next to Magnus’s pillow.  
  
Alec can just picture Magnus typing out his messages gracefully and without a second thought, his painted nails skipping across his phone. Meanwhile, Alec stares at his phone with a furrowed brow, narrowed eyes, a deep set frown. His own thumbs trip around as he tries to write some kind of coherent reply. Alec doesn’t know why the whole thing unsettles him. He’s thrown by Magnus’s openness; shocked by his apparent obliviousness at Alec’s struggles; and envious of how easily he just _is_.

* * *

Everything is going fine until the week before Thanksgiving. Alec and Magnus haven’t seen each other again -- Alec hasn’t returned to Pandemonium, and the city is so big that it affords a sort of anonymity and barrier to seeing those you wanted to avoid. But as Alec is getting ready for bed one night, pulling on a pair of flannel pajama pants, his phone dings with a text alert.  
  
Alec drops onto his bed and picks up his phone, unlocking it with a press of a finger. The text is from Magnus.  
  
_**Would you be interested in joining me at the Museum of Natural History on Saturday? They’re hosting an exhibit on volcanoes and I’ve always been oddly interested.**_  
  
He sighs. Saturday is only a day away. And part of him wants to go. But. Then he’d have to admit that Magnus is a part of his life in some capacity. And figure out in what capacity. And figure out how to talk to him without wanting to run for cover.  
  
Alec turns his phone off.

* * *

The Monday after Thanksgiving, Alec is at work. The office is quiet and he sits in his cubicle working on a mockup flyer for a client, music threading through the wires of his earbuds. He’s only in the office for another thirty minutes and has to get this assignment done so his boss can send it back to the client for approval. Alec is so focused on the Photoshop file open in front of him that he doesn’t notice his phone vibrating endlessly with texts until he has left the office for the day and is making his way to the subway to head to campus.  
  
A good number of the texts are from Jace and Izzy, texting their group chat about dinner plans for the night. He smirks at Jace’s messages to Izzy, him telling her over and over that she doesn’t need to cook, that he can pick up take out on his way home from his shift at the gym. He sends a text of his own, reminding them that he doesn’t get out of class until after 9 so he’ll just grab something to eat on campus.  
  
He exits their conversation to see two texts from Magnus. His stomach sinks, an odd reaction he doesn’t understand. He wants to text Magnus. He wants to talk to Magnus. He wants to _see_ Magnus. But some part of him, a small but insistent part, utterly refuses.  
  
Alec rubs a hand over his face as he trudges down the stairs to the train. He opens their conversation. His last message to Magnus had been almost two weeks ago -- before the text about the museum. Today’s messages read, **_Hey, how was your Thanksgiving? I’ve been trying to give you some space._**  
  
Alec smothers a groan. It isn’t aimed at Magnus -- it’s aimed at himself. At the fact that Magnus feels like he has to give him space. All Alec has wanted for years is for someone to be interested in him, and now that somebody is, somebody whom he thinks he’s also interested in, he kind of wants to hurl himself in front of a bus.  
  
The whole situation is making his chest ache deep inside.  
  
He doesn’t even know why.

* * *

In early December, Alec is wandering around the supermarket with Izzy and Jace. He pushes the cart as Jace and Izzy toss in groceries and argue with each other about their need for another carton of eggs. He’s gotten pretty good at tuning them out over the years and follows the list he had written at home, picking up some pancake mix as they walk past the baking aisle and turn in by the candy.  
  
“I swear I used the last two eggs yesterday to make an omelette,” Jace says, tossing a bag of marshmallows into the cart. Alec raises a brow at him. “What? I’m allowed to want s’mores.”  
  
“What, are you gonna make them in the microwave?” Izzy asks, eyes scanning the array of chocolate in front of her. She settles on a small bag of Reese’s Pieces and drops them into the cart among her frozen meals, boxes of cereal, and pre-made salads.  
  
Jace scoffs, grabbing a pack of Hershey bars off the shelf. “Of course not. I’m going to toast the marshmallows over the stove.”  
  
“Just don’t start another fire,” Alec replies. The time Izzy had been trying to make spaghetti and had let the still-dry noodles get a bit too close to the gas stove stands out in his mind. The blaring of the smoke alarms throughout their apartment and the screeches of the windows as they wrenched them all open are ingrained in his head.  
  
“That was _one_ time, Alec!”  
  
Alec snorts, turning to pick up a pack of gum, when he sees somebody standing behind him. He freezes.  
  
Magnus.  
  
“Uh.” Alec stares at him.  
  
Magnus looks back, mouth quirked into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He holds a small shopping basket in his clasped hands. “Hey, Alec.”  
  
“Magnus!” Izzy darts past Alec and leans in to hug Magnus, whose hands unfold so he can hug her back with one. “How are you?”  
  
Magnus’s eyes leave Alec’s to look at Izzy as she steps back. Alec’s stomach drops. “I’m fine, darling, how are you?”  
  
“Great,” Izzy answers as Jace joins them. He greets Magnus with an easy familiarity. Alec stands frozen in place, watching, observing. His hand rubs at his thigh for a second before pinching it between two fingers. “You and Alec know each other?” Alec’s gaze slides to the ground as Magnus’s finds his face again. This isn’t exactly how he planned on seeing Magnus again, if he ever did.  
  
“We met at Pandemonium,” Magnus answers easily enough.  
  
Izzy turns to look at Alec through narrowed eyes. He doesn’t look back at her, doesn’t look at Jace, who’s glancing between the two of them, grinning, not catching on, and certainly doesn’t look at Magnus, who’s shifting his basket from hand to hand. He looks resolutely at his boots, scuffed and a bit dirty.  
  
“Oh sick.” Jace breaks the silence. “We’ve been trying to get Alec to join us again, but he’s more of a homebody. Likes to watch old ass films and stuff instead of dancing.”  
  
“Documentaries,” Alec corrects him quietly, feeling his face burn. Jace just waves him off.  
  
“I don’t think he’s joined us since just before Halloween.” Izzy bites her lip. “You guys-”  
  
Magnus just nods. “Yeah, we met then.”  
  
And oh _god_ , when Izzy turns to raise her brows at him, Alec wants to sink through the floor. Halloween was nearly a month and a half ago. Not that long but long enough that Magnus knowing Alec’s name, Alec knowing Magnus is a definite _something_ rather than a possible nothing. This is so fucking awkward. Jace starts to say something, his face pinched into a frown, but apparently thinks better of it and snaps his mouth closed. The four of them go quiet, each lost in their thoughts, and Alec can feel Magnus watching him. He shifts his weight, hand tightening on his thigh.  
  
“Well,” Magnus says. Alec glances up to see him wave a hand through the air, his fingernails coated in dark polish and his rings catching the bright lights overhead. “I’ll let you all get back to your shopping. I just came over here to grab” --and he pauses, reaching next to Alec to grab a pack of gum, the same kind Alec had picked up, and Alec tenses as he leans into his space for even just a second--”this.”  
  
He sets it on top of some other items in his basket and smiles at Jace and Izzy. “I’ll see you two at Pandemonium sometime.” His eyes flash something odd before he quietly says, “Bye, Alec,” and he spins on his heel, leaving Alec staring after him.  
  
Alec runs a hand over his face, feeling Izzy sidle up next to him and curl her arm around his waist. “So,” she says, “what exactly was that about?” Jace watches him, arms crossed over his chest.  
  
“Fuck.” He exhales. And he tells them. He tells them about that night at Pandemonium, how he and Magnus had kept talking, even when Magnus’s shift had ended. How they had traded phone numbers, how they texted regularly for a couple of weeks after that night, until Alec panicked and shut it down. How Alec misses him, but doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. How Alec’s chest hurts when he thinks about Magnus’s deep brown eyes and kind voice and soft-looking hair and how he wants to be near him, wants to be with him, but doesn’t know how to fix this, or how to exist around him. It all comes pouring out as they stand in the candy aisle. It’s like once he starts talking about it, he’s unable to stop, his hands gesticulating wildly even as he kept his voice low. Izzy and Jace stare at him, eyebrows raised. When he finishes, Izzy returns to her spot against his side, nestling under his arm, and hugs him tight. Jace meets his eyes over her head, concern written all over his face. Alec sighs.  
  
“Alec,” Izzy says, her voice muffled a little by their hug. “You need to talk to him.” When he doesn’t respond, she leans back and pinches his side. He swats at her hand. “I’m serious -- if you want to make it better, you need to tell him what you just told us.” She’s right. He knows she’s right. But it doesn’t mean he wants to hear, or, even more, do it.  
  
Jace speaks for the first time since Magnus had left. “She’s right, dude.” Alec groans quietly. “C’mon, it won’t be that bad,” he says, and Alec sends a withering glare his way. He holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m not saying it won’t be hard, but you’ve gotta be honest with him.”  
  
The spot where Magnus stood just minutes before is still empty, the three of them forming a sort of semi-circle around it. Alec stares at the space, frowning, tired. He nods, rolling his shoulders, and turns, gripping the cart and pushing it down the aisle. For now, they need to finish shopping.

* * *

Christmas came and went, fluffy white snow coating the city and quieting the constant traffic outside. The Lightwood’s had a calm yet chaotic Christmas at their mom’s apartment with Luke, Clary, and Simon joining them (Simon loved Christmas, even if he didn’t really celebrate it. He liked eating copious amounts of the cookies that Alec baked every year, and giving Izzy sweet presents).  
  
Max woke everyone up at the crack of dawn and they traipsed into the living room, gathering around the tree, the older Lightwoods and guests sipping coffee as Max passed around gifts. Simon got Izzy a pair of stud earrings shaped like snakes and an early copy of a comic book he was working on. Izzy gave him a fancy-looking ink pen and a leather-bound journal. Clary presented Jace with a new leather jacket, and Jace watched on eagerly as she unwrapped a new set of colored pencils and oil paints. Alec saw Maryse take Luke aside and clasp a golden watch around his wrist, and he watched quietly as Luke fastened a shining silver chain around Maryse’s neck, a small pendant resting against her chest. They turned to gaze at each other and Alec’s heart swelled and shattered and he quickly distracted himself by joining Max on the floor with a set of Legos.

* * *

It isn’t until a few days later that Alec texts Magnus asking to meet up with him. **_Hey,_ **he taps out. He bites his lip as his thumbs hover over his phone. **_I hope you had a lovely Christmas. I’m sorry to bother you, but I owe you an apology and an explanation. Would you meet with me?_** He hits send without giving himself time to rethink it. He sets his phone down, face up, next to him on the sofa and tries to focus on the documentary playing on the TV. Jace is at work, and Izzy’s out with Simon, leaving Alec alone in the apartment.  
  
His phone lights up with a response almost immediately. **_Merry Christmas, Alec. I’d like that._**  
  
Something in his chest flares as he reads the text once, and then again, and then a third time. The butterflies in his chest begin to take flight, and he tamps them down. Okay, he thinks. He can do this.  
  
In reality, he’s not sure.

* * *

When Alec asked Magnus to meet him in Central Park on the north side of The Pond, he didn’t really think about how cold it would be, a stupid oversight. His hands are frigid, his gloves forgotten in his apartment. His pockets only provide so much warmth as he trails through the park, his boots leaving behind prints in the lightly falling snow. He rounds the corner where Magnus should be and tugs his beanie down further over his head.  
  
There he is.  
  
Magnus sits facing the pond, his back to Alec, one arm stretched along the length of the bench next to him, a gloved hand resting atop the wood. Alec can see his legs crossed in front of him, his foot tapping the air rhythmically. His burgundy coat stands out from the light dusting of snow on the ground around him and Alec inhales quickly in surprise, or shock, or fear. He’s not sure.  
  
He pauses, rolling his shoulders and exhaling slowly, before rounding the bench. Magnus’s eyes jump to his face, and he offers Alec a small smile. Alec feels his cheeks burning despite the cold. “I’m sorry.”  
  
Magnus’s smile softens a bit and Alec watches as he searches his face for… something. Sincerity? Alec isn’t sure he knows how to be any more sincere. Magnus removes his arm from the back of the bench and pats the seat next to him. Alec bites his lip and sits down, leaving a spacious gap between them. If Magnus thinks anything of the space, he doesn’t express it. Instead, he folds his hands in his lap and turns to Alec. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”  
  
“I’m the one who asked to meet you.” Alec glances at Magnus, his eyes quickly scanning his face from his deep brown eyes to his soft, unsure smile and the stubble that surrounds it. Magnus shrugs lightly and Alec lets out a sigh, letting his gaze fall on a tree in the distance, it’s bare branches covered in a light blanket of snow. “Me neither.”  
  
Magnus hums. His foot keeps tapping the air. “I’m glad you did.”  
  
And how is Alec supposed to reply to that? He knows that Magnus is offering him kindness that he doesn’t deserve, especially not when he’s blown him off so many times in the past couple of months; when neither of them were certain that Alec wouldn’t stand him up today; when it’s snowing and cold and blustery and they’re on a bench in the middle of a park, alone. He settles for a small nod.  
  
Beside him, Magnus sighs quietly. In his periphery, Alec sees him uncross his legs and lean forward, fiddling with the pointer finger of his glove. “Listen,” Magnus says, and Alec blinks long and hard, because Magnus sounds so sad and regretful and he hates it. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, if I came on too strong or--”  
  
Alec makes a pained noise deep in his throat, and Magnus pauses. They’re both quiet for a moment as Alec works up the courage to tear his eyes from the tree and glance at Magnus. He’s looking back at him with furrowed brows, a small frown where a smile should be. “You didn’t.” Alec swallows. Why the fuck is it so hard to get the words out? He pinches his thigh. “Come on too strong.” Magnus nods slowly. He’s searching Alec’s face again, Alec can feel his gaze, and his face burns from it. Alec waits for Magnus to say something or even just leave, but the other man seems content to wait in silence. Alec frowns deeply and takes a breath, trying to ground himself.  
  
“I just… Magnus, I wish I knew how to -- I’ve never…” and he trails off.  
  
The idea is clear in his head; he doesn’t know how to do this, how to sit in peace with someone, how to interact with somebody who wants him the same way he wants them, how to hold hands and date and look at someone like they’re the only one that matters. How to be looked at the same way. But he doesn’t even know if that’s where things with Magnus are headed and the uncertainty adds another level of terror. In any case, the words won’t come. Alec makes another pained noise, frustrated, and bends over, cradling his head in his hands. “Shit.”  
  
“Hey.” Magnus shuffles down the bench, moving a little closer to him, and if he sees the way Alec’s shoulders tense, he says nothing about it. He reaches out as if to pat Alec’s arm or knee or something but pauses, letting his hand fall to his own lap. “It’s okay.”  
  
Alec shakes his head minutely. “It’s not,” he grumbles. He sits upright, stiff as a rod, and forces himself to meet Magnus’s eyes. “You deserve better than that. This.”  
  
He sees something flicker in Magnus’s eyes then, some sort of understanding or sadness or disappointment. He isn’t sure what it is, but it’s gone as fast as it comes. Magnus quirks a tiny smile. “I think it’s up to me to decide what I deserve, Alec.”  
  
And god this is so _frustrating_ , and Alec’s chest hurts from the inside out, and he feels tension in every muscle of his body. “I-” He pauses, running a hand over his face, before staring at Magnus again. “I never answered your texts.”  
  
Magnus’s smile turns rueful. He lets out a soft laugh, but it’s without much humor. “I will admit, that kind of hurt.” Alec opens his mouth to apologize but Magnus holds up a finger. “But it’s okay. Really.” And Alec can’t help but believe that he’s been forgiven for that, for nearly a month of radio silence, as unexpected as it is. Magnus is somehow making this both easier and harder than he had expected, forgiving him when he shouldn’t be but still looking so interested and perfect and kind that Alec has trouble even breathing. His stomach is beginning to ache. Magnus’s voice is unbearably soft when he says, “Alec, what’s going on?”  
  
So Alec does what Izzy and Jace told him he should; he tells him. It’s hard, harder than it feels like it should be, and some part of him is filling up with self-loathing and he grabs his legs in a strong grip. He meets Magnus’s eyes and holds his gaze as he says, “I’m scared.” Magnus’s brows go up, as if surprised, and they lower slowly, his face becoming something unreadable. He seems to be waiting for Alec to continue, so he does, taking his time and choosing his words with care. “I just… I’ve never done this before. And I want… I want to talk to you and spend time with you, I do, I promise, but I’m so scared.” Alec drops his head, boring holes into his knees with his harsh gaze.  
  
Magnus shifts closer still, and when he reaches out this time, he doesn’t stop himself. He places a gloved palm over one of Alec’s fists. Alec can feel the warmth from his palm seeping through fleece. Alec lets out a breath, and Magnus smiles small. “It’s okay to be nervous and afraid, Alec.” He shrugs. “I’m nervous, too.” He taps his thumb against the back of Alec’s hand and Alec releases the grip he still has on his leg, relaxing his hand as much as he can. “But I don’t think that’s any reason not to see where this goes.” He ducks, catching Alec’s eye. His brown irises reflect gold in the bright winter light, almost twinkling, and Alec takes another steadying breath.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“Okay?”  
  
“Yeah.” Alec lifts his head. “I really am sorry.” He feels Magnus start to trace circles on the back of his hand, the warm fleece catching on Alec’s cold skin, his hand almost buzzing from it. “I just need you to know that I really don’t know what I’m doing.”  
  
“That’s alright.”  
  
It feels like it actually is.

* * *

Everything is going great, all things considered. The new year has come in a swirl of snow and sleet and flashing lights and rambunctious cheers from Times Square, the winter has fallen heavier and Punxsatawny Phil has seen his shadow and retreated to his underground burrow, signaling that the cold weather will linger a while longer. Alec’s weeks have been flying by, this semester’s classes promising group projects and plenty of papers to write, and Magnus has regaled him with stories of his own lectures and seminars during the nights they spend curled together on Alec’s couch or in front of Magnus’s fireplace. Everything is going great.  
  
Alec is learning. Not only in school, where he obviously is, but with Magnus. His first boyfriend. Alec actually responds to his texts now, and calls him on weekends when they can’t see each other. He pulls Magnus’s hand out of his pocket and holds it, fingers threaded through his, when they walk through the city together. He is getting used to touching and being touched. He is learning that Magnus will give him space if he wants it, but that he prefers resting his head on Alec’s chest as they lounge on the couch, fiddling with Alec’s fingers as they sit in a coffee shop, and holding him close as often as he can.  
  
And Magnus is learning. Magnus is finding out that Alec’s outwardly confident, unafraid of bugs or heights or clowns, but that Alec’s years of trapping his emotions beneath the surface have had an effect on him. He is finding out that just holding Alec’s hand is better than he thought it would be. He is finding out that letting Alec know that he can set any boundaries he wants clearly confuses Alec, who longs both to be touched and be known and to run away from it all. He is learning that Alec is a mess of contradictions, but the mess is beautiful.  
  
But Alec doesn’t pretend it’s easy. The first night Magnus asks him to stay over in his studio apartment, he damn near has a panic attack. He’s standing in front of the door -- he had been just about to pull his boots on. His chest is rising and falling painfully fast as Magnus grips his hand in his. “Hey,” Magnus says, massaging his palm gently. “Alexander.” His voice is soft, almost unbearably so. Alec closes his eyes and tries to focus on the soothing timbre of it as Magnus continues. “It’s alright. There’s no pressure, none at all. I just thought you might not want to trek all the way home at midnight, especially given the weather out there.” As if on cue, thunder cracks overhead. Alec feels Magnus’s hand come up and brush his cheek, slow and careful. “I can sleep on the sofa, if you want to stay.”  
  
“No.” Alec exhales. He opens his eyes; Magnus is close, watching him with gentle eyes. He loves his eyes, they’re warmth and kindness. He feels grounded in his eyes. “No, I want to stay, I just….” He takes a deep breath. He has been working on being honest, and sometimes it makes him feel like he’s falling through the ground. He flips over the hand still in Magnus’s hold, gripping his boyfriend’s hand like a lifeline. “I’m sorry. I want to stay. I’ll stay.” He pauses, and Magnus smiles. “You don’t have to take the sofa.”  
  
He says it, and it’s settled. He’s decided he’ll stay and that’s what he’ll do. They’ll share the bed, unless Alec changes his mind, but he feels in his chest that he won’t. Magnus squeezes his hand. “No pressure.”  
  
Alec smiles at him, small, shy, but real. “I know.”  
  
Magnus kisses him then. It’s not their first kiss, and Alec doesn’t know if he would even rank it in their top ten kisses, but it’s exactly what he needs at the moment. It’s soft and slow and careful, lacking heat but full of care. Magnus’s hand is still on him, angling his head down and gripping his jaw tenderly. Alec lifts his free hand to Magnus’s waist and pulls him closer, and Magnus giggles, drawing back. “It’s late.”  
  
“Your point?”  
  
Magnus swats at his chest. “Alexander.” He angles his body away from him, but keeps looking at him, keeps smiling at him. “I’m glad you’re staying.”  
  
Alec leans forward and kisses him on the cheek, feeling worlds better than he had just moments ago, feeling grounded, certain, _right_. “Me, too.”

* * *

The weather has changed again, and again again. The hot summer sun beats down on the iron chairs in Union Square Park where Alec and Magnus sit eating their lunch and picking through magazines. Tourists traipse around them, all decked in red, white, and blue for the 4th of July. It’s only a matter of time before fireworks start flying over Brooklyn Bridge.  
  
Magnus hums as he flips a page in his copy of GQ, and Alec pokes his fork at one of the images that has been revealed. “That looks like the vest you wore on Halloween.”  
  
The waistcoat in the image is black, silky and shiny, with small golden buttons. It does look remarkably like his, but doubtlessly more expensive. And Magnus’s buttons had been black, but close enough. He looks up at Alec, who’s still staring at the picture, green eyes narrowed in thought even as he smiles. “You remember what I was wearing?”  
  
Alec scoffs. “Of course.” He lowers his voice, even though there’s nobody paying them any attention. “You looked insanely hot; it was intimidating.” Magnus grins, but Alec pauses, fork halfway to his mouth with a bite of salad. “Except for the white mustache. What was that about?”  
  
Magnus gapes, eyebrows raising in disbelief. “I was Dracula, from the book! Stoker describes him as having a big mustache and long curly white hair, but, y’know, there’s only so far I’m willing to go.”  
  
“How was I supposed to know that? You weren’t wearing fangs,” Alec replies through a mouthful of lettuce.  
  
“They were unbecoming.”  
  
Alec snorts. “You could make anything becoming.”  
  
“Why, Alexander. I’m not sure if that sentence is grammatically correct, but I am flattered. And flattery will get you everywhere.” He waits for Alec to look up, meet his eyes over their lunches and their magazines, their cups of boba tea and their phones sitting facedown on the table. "Thank you."   
  
Alec reaches out and takes Magnus’s hand in his, the fear that once consumed him now just a quiet voice in his head, one that he can easily shut up. It feels peaceful. The pain in his chest has been replaced with something else; something warm and soft, like fleece. “I’m so thankful for you.”  
  
“Wrong holiday, sweetheart,” Magnus says, though his voice is soft as he grips Alec’s hand. Alec rolls his eyes. “But I’m thankful for you, too.” He looks away for a moment, trying to form his next sentence carefully. Alec watches him patiently. “I’m thankful that… you were willing to try.”  
  
Alec’s face burns red, but he just sets his fork down and leans into Magnus’s space, planting a soft kiss on his mouth. When he pulls back, he breathes, just loudly enough for Magnus to hear: “I’ll _always_ try for you.”


End file.
